Alone in his room, Yu Han wrapped his waist with a knotted rope. His fingers traced each knot until one met the other end of the rope.
“Four knots down.”
He knew he was about a hundred and seventy centimetres tall. When he first arrived in this world, a guesstimate of his weight would be around a hundred and sixty kilograms. Today he was around twenty kilos fewer.
A smile broke out.
He could’ve made more rapid progress. Herculean fasting, exercise, cardio, and all the other tricks in the book. He’d tried that after having Huang Niuniu’s fasting brew.
The first chance he got, he binged himself unconscious.
The Deep Sea’s Vitality and Spirit Spite were definitely calorie-rich. It had been a constant push and pull.
Now, he had enough endurance to push through exercise. Enough flexibility to perform Ox Tail 72 Sweeping Forms adequately. Enough strength to not let the halberd drop mid-stance.
Now, he could min-max. Optimise his routine for true fat loss.
Eleven months. Yu Han gave himself a goal, though it was somewhat involuntary, as that’s when the Rookie Tournament would be held.Primordial Qi: 5
[Mind Origin: 12.20]
Intelligence: 14
Memory: 17
Perception: 11
Clarity: 9
Focus: 10
He concentrated on the Memory stat.
[Mind Origin: 16.13 (+3.93)]
Memory: 22 (+5)
He sat cross-legged on the mat. Midday light floated in through the window. Gradually, the insect chirps faded from his senses, as did the coarse texture of the mat underneath.
A force bubbled up within him. First at his feet, then upwards, going through his hips, torso, chest, neck, and settling in his brain. A tingling pain rose and fell, like waves.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
Yu Han forced his eyes to stay shut and clamped down on his mouth, teeth clenched.
Again, the pain rose, then it fell. The cycle of threes, repeated five times. Then it ebbed, as if it was never there.
His tense muscles relaxed. When he came to, the light outside had changed into a shade of orange. His robes were soaked in sweat.
Primordial Qi: 0
[Mind Origin: 16.13]
Memory: 22
Yu Han decided to go all in on his advantage. The only viable supernatural power he had was related to Deep Sleep, and the Auxiliary Art Echoing Dreamscape. He could have raised his Body Origin or Spirit Origin Stats too, but the latter was too elusive, with no information to speak of.
As for Body Origin, with his weight loss pace, he would be gaining stats in them anyway. Not to mention the brews.
So Mind it was.
The reason why he was able to complete the variations of Ox Tail 72 Sweeping Forms in barely a month was because of the relentless practice he’d done in Deep Sleep. But the muscle memories did not transfer over. Neither did the instincts.
What did was merely an echo of a feeling that he’d touched and swivelled the halberd many times more than in reality. The forms, the changes, one stance to another.
He trained his mind, resisting his urge to close his eyes or freeze in front of attackers.
Wu Di.
Gong Muhua.
The Demonic dog.
So that he would never flinch.
With more stats in Memory, he could more easily recall past events, not only of Yu Han, but of Johan too. And the echoes would remain longer. Be more tangible.
That was his only advantage. In one year, Sima Yan would come bearing his wrath. Who knew, maybe he’d find a way before that.
So Yu Han decided to specialise. Deep Sleep wasn’t useless. With time and practice, with Echoing Dreamscape, he would find a way.
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“Are you done?” Huang Niuniu’s voice came from outside the door.
“Let me change first.” Yu Han took out another set of robes.
Huang Niuniu had started with Body Allocation. She put her Primordial Qi there too, though Yu Han refrained from asking which substats specifically.
She had been training in the Flowing Fragrance Weaving Silk Flower Dance since she was seven, apparently. Fourteen years of practice. Yu Han believed that the only reason he got his Martial Art at Initial Step Level 1 merely a week after her was because of the practice in Deep Sleep.
His hands shook as he tied the waist belt.
It’s fine. Don’t regret it. You made the right choice. It was too late, anyway. He couldn’t go back and change the allocation.
He lightly clapped his cheek.
Huang Niuniu stood outside the door with a backpack. Her robes were a bit faded now; the azure dye was not of the best quality. Or was it from wear and tear?
Outside the fence, they saw Li Yao hopping over.
“Heading out, tubs?” Li Yao said. “Today’s the big day, huh?”
Yu Han nodded. “Make sure to thank me whenever you use the outhouse.”
“I’ll burn incense too.”
They both laughed. The idea of being a poop shoveller had been crazy at first, but one month was long enough to come to terms with it.
Besides, he had another card in his mind.
Arts:
[Deep Sleep]
Type: Bloodline
Grade: Mortal Level 1
Mastery: Initial Step Level 1
True Qi: 181 (+46)/200
[Echoing Dreamscape]
Type: Auxiliary
Grade: Mortal Level 9
Mastery: Initial Step Level 3
True Qi: 139 (+68)/400
[Calm Before the Storm Breathing Technique]
Type: Cultivation
Grade: Mortal Level 5
Mastery: Initial Step Level 1
True Qi: 133 (+103)/200
[Thousand Petals Awareness]
Type: Psychic
Grade: Elite Level 9
Mastery: Initial Step Level 1
True Qi: 25 (+25)/200
[Ox Tail 72 Sweeping Forms]
Type: Martial
Grade: Elite Level 2
Mastery: Initial Step Level 1
True Qi: 1/200
Thousand Petals Awareness!
It was a strange Art, with more limitations than uses despite being the highest Grade Art he possessed.
Li Yao carried a parcel. He placed it on the ground, untied the binding rope, opened the hemp cloth, and lifted out a slab of meat.
“From a Level 4 Monster. I had to drink with my Senior until my liver almost burst. Better be grateful,” Li Yao said.
It had been a while since he had honest-to-goodness meat, not the stuff Huang Niuniu prepared for the brews. Yu Han could feel the saliva forming already.
Unlike the ship, the Drizzle, and the two starting villages, the Sect didn’t provide free food here. There was a canteen, but it cost cash.
Huang Niuniu took the parcel back to her place. Meanwhile, Yu Han went into his hut and came back out with a book. It had a simple cloth cover, and the paper was coarse and of low quality. It looked like it was bound by an amateur.
That was because Yu Han had bound it. He echoed a YouTube video about bookbinding, passing out because of the strain. The next few days, he bound the book with makeshift material. The contents were penned by himself.
He passed the book to Li Yao.
“What’s this?”
“You selected a Sword Art from the Scripture Hall, right?”
“Yep, they let me use a sword to butcher the beasts and monsters rather than a knife,” Li Yao said, patting the old sword at his waist. “The Sword Stream Separation Art is my past and present. Future Sword Saint Li Yao, at your service.”
He read the title on the book.
“Silver Serpent Blade Dance? Wait, is this…?” His eyes grew wider.
“Don’t ask where I got it. Maybe it’ll be helpful to you. Although it doesn’t have diagrams, just some weird philosophy and poems I don’t understand.” Yu Han scratched his head. It was a copy of one of the manuals from the Rookie Village library.
The only reason he felt confident enough to share it was because it didn’t have diagrams. Yu Han wasn’t sure enough that his anime art style would capture the intricacies of the diagrams drawn in the other Martial Art Manuals, like Bronze Crane Leg or Thunderclap Punch. He wanted to do something tangible for Li Yao.
The other young man quickly flipped through the book.
“Crazy son of a—I get it. Huh? Is that what this means?”
He sat down. On the mud.
“No way. You can use a sword like that?” he said like a madman.
“Li Yao?”
Li Yao paid him no heed. “If I can use it with my left hand, then I can dual-wield two swords at the same time. But if that’s the case…” He frowned.
“Blade begets blade, like a coiling serpent eating another snake.
Silver light flashes; the dragons weave death at the infinite gate.”
It was a poem. The brute Li Yao recited it as if it was the sweetest set of words in the world.
“What’s wrong with him?” Huang Niuniu asked.
Yu Han glared. She pouted, then changed her hairstyle from a bun to a ponytail.
Sports girls do ponytails. Yu Han nodded, satisfied.
“Let’s go,” he said. “It’s nearly evening.”
“We’re leaving him?” Huang Niuniu pointed at the hysteric Li Yao.
“We don’t know him,” Yu Han said.
Huang Niuniu gave Li Yao one last look. Then they headed down the mountain.
It hadn’t rained for two days, so the path was nearly dry. The sky was blue here and orange there, soft white clouds dotting it like cotton. Soon, the blue hue of the sky deepened, purple appearing at the edges. The orange receded as the sun sank below an unseen horizon. Stars appeared. The moon was a crescent.
They carried a lantern through the ups and downs of the mountain pass. In the periphery of the Outer Sect, the mountains weren’t sunken in water, but had normal valleys, coves, and ridges.
They passed by the Grotto of Three Old Frogs, then walked beside the Old Banyan Tree of Wang’s Wife.
After two hours, with night at the doorstep, they arrived at an old gate. There was a fence on both sides. It glowed with metal light under the shine of the moon and stars.
Written on the gate pillar was “Alchemists of the Night.” If they walked along the fence for an hour, they would see the majestic Alchemy Hall of the Outer Sect, with its varnished pillars, tiled roofs, and many courtyards.
But the only thing the Night Soil Collectors got was a ranch.
They walked under the gate. On one side, there was a stable with many donkeys and mules. A few had two tails, and some had horns. They all looked dumb.
There were large carts piled up. Bales of hay were gathered below a tarp beside a shed with many shovels.
“You the new guys?” A Senior Brother was latching up a cart to a donkey. “A girl, how rare. Womenfolk don’t like this work.”
“We’re reporting in for duty, Senior Brother,” Yu Han said.
“Quiet. You’ll startle old Five.” The Senior Brother patted the donkey. “I have the east shift, so I’m taking the waste to the gorge. Senior Brother Wen will show you the ropes tonight. He’s the supervisor. The Elder in charge doesn’t show up much.”
With that, he was off. The cart creaked and rode out of the gates.
“It’s fast.” Yu Han expected donkey carts to be slower. The ones he’d seen in Riversong City, and even along the villages and towns in the Sunken Mountains, didn’t move that fast.
They stopped in front of the only serviceable building. It was a courtyard, seemingly well taken care of.
The door opened.
A man in full body armour stood there, a serrated hatchet in one hand, a bucket of red liquid in the other.
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